


in a week

by renrub



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode: s15e18 Despair, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27561418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renrub/pseuds/renrub
Summary: Castiel is outside a barn covered in sigils. He frowns. This isn’t right. This has never been something he repented for.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 261





	in a week

Castiel blinks, and he goes from a warded room to a void. The Empty is standing in front of him, hands in its pockets, a perfect replica of Meg. It smiles. 

“Castiel. Here you are. You do know what happens next, don’t you?”

He does. He starts to say as much, but The Empty just smiles wider, and the next time he blinks everything’s gone again.

It is night, and Castiel is standing under a streetlamp. The sidewalk he’s on is clear, but snow blankets everything else. It’s far from pure: most of it is trodden, boot prints punched through from a day of people trudging through it. He says “Anna, please,” and the lights flicker around him, and he thinks, _oh._

“Come to kill me after all?”

He feels a surge of affection, immediately followed by a pang. He had missed Anna, after she had fallen, though he hadn’t dared to speak that to anyone. She was his sister, his commander, and even when he hadn’t understood her, he had loved her. He wants to tell her that. He wants to say something different this time. He had struggled to understand back then, struggled to throw off everything he’d ever known even as it made discordant clangs when put against what seemed to be right. But he understands now, and he should have understood enough then to ally with his sister. But he doesn’t say anything he wishes he said. Anna still touches his shoulder before her face goes cold. 

“That’s right. You’re too good for my help. I’m just a walking blasphemy.”

Surely there is something he can say that will change things. There must be. Perhaps all he has to do is explain his doubts, tell Anna he doesn’t understand but he desperately wants to. They’re all there, always at the forefront of his thoughts. It would be so easy to tell them to Anna. Anna, who silently longed for the embrace of humanity until the day she was gone and all their superiors were in a fury. He tries to say something again, but what comes out is _Please tell me what to do._ Anna tells him to think for himself, and then she’s gone, and Cas is standing on an empty sidewalk. He knows the next time he sees Anna she will be desperate, and it will be his fault, and then she will be dead. 

Castiel is in a room with Crowley, Raphael, and the Winchesters. Crowley understands what’s happening, and he flees. Castiel turns Raphael into a smear, because that’s what you do when you are more powerful than an archangel. He remembers how it felt like his blood was singing. Energy turned into actions turned back into the rush in his veins, the thrill felt in absolutely every atom contained inside the vessel that was him. The vessel that was God. This was before the aching, before every second was spent trying to keep his seams together as the souls ripped him apart. He turns to the Winchesters. Dean’s voice is level, but his heart is hammering as he asks Castiel to give up his hold on his power. And then he’s not asking, he’s begging, he’s cashing in on every bond they have and saying please don’t make me lose you too. And Castiel knows there’s no changing this, knows that everything inside him was always going to make things play out the way they did. It still hurts when he tells Dean they’re not family. It hurts when he knows what comes next is Sam in pain, living through hell every day, as a direct consequence to Castiel’s arrogance.

Castiel is walking in step with Benjamin and Mirabel and Ishim. He knows heaven has deemed their mission necessary. He knows it’s not right for a child to die for the crime of being a nephilim. He knows that this child will die because an angel saw a human and decided _Mine_. All he can do is say the words and listen to the screams and think about how Akobel and Anna both managed to be brave earlier, all the lives that would be spinning on if only he had done the same. 

Castiel is outside a barn covered in sigils. He has a dull awareness of them all. None of them do anything to him, but he can make out the energy in the strokes that tell things to stay away. He frowns. This isn’t right. This has never been something he repented for. The railroad tracks force him ahead anyway, through the doors that open before him. He crosses the space between him and Dean. Bobby isn’t there, and Dean doesn’t shoot. From within himself, Castiel frowns again. Something is wrong. 

Dean doesn’t ask who he is like he’s supposed to. He throws his arms around Castiel before he pulls away, hands still on Castiel’s shoulders. He examines Castiel’s face for something.

“Cas, buddy, you with me?”

Cas dutifully says what he’s supposed to say because he’s unable not to, and Dean swears a blue streak. By this point, Dean should have stabbed him and Bobby should have taken a swing. There are no tracks for him to follow. He can’t move. 

“We need to talk, Dean. Alone.”

Dean gives one of his uglier snorts.

“Yeah, you think?”

After this, Dean should rush to Bobby’s side while Cas idly flips through some of the books they’ve brought, but Bobby still isn’t here and Cas still can’t move. 

“Your friend isn’t hurt.” 

Dean’s only confused for a moment before his expression clears. 

“Alright. You’re in a loop, right? No big, we’ll just get you out of it. Shouldn’t be a big deal for a stubborn ass like you.”

There’s a crash of thunder that rattles the roof. 

Cas is outside of a barn covered in sigils. 

His feet move him forward without him trying. The doors push inward. He’s… not sure what’s happening. This isn’t something he regrets. 

He crosses the space between him and Dean. Bobby isn’t there, and Dean doesn’t shoot. 

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

Dean works his jaw before laying a hand on Cas’s shoulder. 

“I know you’re in there, Cas. It’s me. Not 2009 me. I’m the real deal. You were there when we told Michael and Lucifer and the apocalypse to fuck off. Your dumb ass wouldn’t let me take you home from purgatory. You’re my best friend. Twelve years, and you’re my best friend.”

Dean is looking into his eyes, and Cas wants to look away. He can’t, because that’s not what he does here. 

“We need to talk, Dean. Alone.”

Dean nods. 

“Right. We’ll take another swing at this. You’re coming home, Cas. You’re not done. You don’t want to stay here. You did what you had to do for Jack. I get it. Believe me, I get it. But Jack’s the big dog in town now. No one’s ever gonna take him somewhere he doesn’t want to be. So come home. Come home with me.”

Cas doesn’t know why Dean isn’t playing by the rules. Where are his tracks that are supposed to lead him beat by beat through this memory? How long did it take him to gain the strength for… whatever this is? Why can’t Cas do it as well?

“Your friend isn’t hurt.”

Dean grimaces. 

“Okay. Round three.” 

Cas is outside of a barn covered in sigils. 

This isn’t right. This isn’t something he regrets. He shouldn’t be here.

He walks through the barn doors. He crosses the space between him and Dean. Bobby isn’t there, and Dean doesn’t shoot. 

“I’m not leaving here without you, Cas. I’m just not. So either we hang out here for eternity while you bust some lightbulbs, or you come home. Please come home.”

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

Dean nods. 

“I’m not giving up on you. I have before and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done to you.”

Dean gestures between the two of them. 

“I’m in this for the long haul. Capiche? You are not doing this alone on my watch.” 

That’s a very Dean thing to say. Cas aches for him. He wants to tell Dean it’s still not his fault, that he doesn’t have to do this anymore. There’s no obligation here. But he doesn’t say that. He says _Dean_ , and he watches as Dean’s eyes go wide and a smile starts on his face and

Cas is outside of a barn covered in sigils. 

Dean is inside. Cas walks in, doors pushing open ahead of him, lights bursting overhead, wind howling outside. He crosses the space between him and Dean. Bobby isn’t there, and Dean doesn’t shoot. Instead, Dean wraps himself around Cas’s wooden frame, mumbling into his neck. 

“Cas, c’mon. It’s me. I know you’re in there, I know you’re hearing me. You’re almost there.” 

He knows what he’s supposed to say, the words lined up and ready behind his lips. When he swallows them, they’re still there. They want so badly to keep him on the right path, the one that he was on all those years ago. But the moment to say them has come and gone, and he’s still silent. 

Dean keeps talking to him. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I know I—I’ve let a lot of people down.” 

A wet laugh. 

“I’ve let you down. I haven’t been there when I was supposed to be, I held grudges longer than I should have. But losing you always hurt. It always hurt when you left and it always felt like it was because I didn’t do something right. You’d rather work with a demon than me, or strike out in your own, or spend eternity chopping heads, so what the hell did that say about me?” 

Dean sniffles against Cas’s neck and doesn’t release his hold. 

“I always wanted to trust you. It just—it hurt, man. To get sidelined like that. To tell you that I’d always have your back and to get turned down. And I know you had your reasons, but I’d get mad about it, and then next time you really needed me I was still pissed. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been. I should have listened to Sam or you or anyone telling me to get over it, because you’re worth sucking up my pride for. You’re you. You’re my best friend. You made me happy for the first time in a long time. And even when things were going to shit, I liked knowing I had you. I can’t—I can’t do this again, Cas. I can’t know you’re gone.” 

Dean’s grip shifts, and he pulls away. He glances at Cas’s face, and then redirects his gaze to the floor. Cas loves him. Cas knows how hard this is, how Dean only says things like this when he thinks someone’s dying, or through prayer, when he thinks no one’s listening. Cas always listens, and he always lets it lie when Dean stiffens as he realizes Cas really heard him. 

Cas doesn’t want to do this to him. Dean rarely talks about the times when Cas was gone, really gone, but his voice wrecks the rare times he does, and Cas has pieced together that Dean’s grief is hard and everlasting and mixes dangerously with his worst fears about himself. And Cas—he wants to live again. He wants to see Jack again, wants to see his friends, wants to live a life that allows him to see years and years of good moments that haven’t come yet. So he nods. Dean catches that and his spine straightens and the hand on Cas’s sleeve becomes tighter. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Cas says, “Let’s go home.”

Castiel is in a field and Dean is clinging to him, which does not match the previous slot in his memory, where Dean is on the floor and slack jawed and Cas is joining a void. He clings back to Dean, because it feels like the right thing to do. 

When Dean pulls away, Cas smiles at him. He says _Hello, Dean_ and watches as Dean beams and laughs before pulling Cas in for another bone crushing hug. The blank space Cas has in his head slowly starts to fill in. His worst memories on repeat until Dean fought his way through just so he could ask Cas to come back. And Cas said yes, because he loves Dean, and Jack, and their friends, and the earth. 

It’s a surprise when there’s an unmistakable feel of lips on his cheek, and when he looks at Dean he gets a defiant look before Dean works his jaw and cuts his eyes away. 

“You… all that stuff you said. Before. About how you feel. You’re not, uh. It’s.” 

Dean clears his throat and continues not looking at Cas’s face. 

“I do too. I should have said it before.” 

He can see how jittery Dean is, how despite everything he still stumbles over believing that he’s capable of being known and wanted. He tilts Dean’s head up until they’re looking at each other. 

“Thank you for saying it now.”

It’s slow, the way they crash into each other, but it’s right. When they get in the car Dean will have one hand on the wheel and the other will rest on Cas’s knee, and that will be right too. They’ll stop in town at a burger joint Dean thinks Cas will like and pick up food to eat at home, but Dean will acquiesce to eating the fries in the car because they’ll go bad by the time they get back, and it will be right. From this moment onward, a long line of right that they chose and fought for and get to live. 

**Author's Note:**

> it's probably pretty apparent lol but the entirety of my knowledge past the first few episodes of season 9 is 12.10 and then three episodes of 15. it’s transformative it’s fine. based on a tumblr post that's lost in my likes that i'll link when i find it. on GOD we're gonna get the dean pulling cas out of the afterlife bookend!!


End file.
